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by reaperbirb (rivenmist)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Night Terrors, Sleep Deprivation, sleep paralysis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 15:11:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5590945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivenmist/pseuds/reaperbirb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sans is having a bad night.</p>
            </blockquote>





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Sans furrowed his brow as he realized what part of the dream he was in, the flash of a knife slashing through his clothes. He was paralyzed, magic flaring as he felt his soul drop, chest tight as he struggled to keep his cool, calm demeanor. He fell, and just as he hit the ground, his eyes snapped open.

He was in his room, laying on his bed, the only light coming in was from the window above his bed. 

There was movement from the corner of his eye, and when he tried to sit up and confirm it, he realized he couldn't feel his arms. 

The shadow moved closer, and Sans felt panic rising up in his throat. He tried to think on using his magic, to attack whatever was quickly moving towards him, but it didn't work. He could see the light of his magic flare up, but it wasn't affecting this creature.

The childish shape stepped into the moonlight, smiling in a doll-like sense. When Sans blinked, it was towering over him on the bed, eyes glowing red and grin widening. 

_They followed him out of the dream._

He couldn't speak, to tell them stay away. He had forgotten to wake up before opening his eyes. He grimaced and shut his eyes tight, trying to wake himself up as he was being choked by cold, firm hands. 

_It's not real It's not real It's not real Wake up Wake up Wake up Wake--_

He felt himself getting dizzy, pinpricks as his hands gained feeling again, and he jolted up with a start when he realized it was his own hands around his neck. He breathed deep, wiping the corners of his eyes and the cold sweat off the back of his neck. His head throbbed as a migraine set in, hands shaking as he tried to relax and breath, to ground himself back into the real world.  
After a few minutes, he wiggled his fingers and toes experimentally, glad to feel them immediately responding, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. _Too much sleep for tonight,_ he thought wearily as he reached for his hoodie on the floor and stood up. _Time for a break._

Sans was used to hiding the truth from everyone else. There was the constant plaguing of deaths in his dreams. The kind of terror that would rattle his bones down to the depths of his cerulean soul. 

He padded across the floor, and as he reached the door he instantly teleported, now walking up to the fridge in the kitchen. Opening it up, he felt a warm blast of air wash over him, the yellow light blinding him momentarily as he reached for the ketchup. 

Kicking the door shut with his foot, he walked over to grab a glass of cool water as well, walking into the living room and setting them on the coffee table on the far side of the couch. He took up a blanket and threw it over his shoulders, and using the remote to turn on the tv, he sat down and absent mindedly stare at the bright flashing screen. 

Sans couldn't place why he would have them, but each one had the eerie sense of familiarity, like he had failed the most important test in his life, _but what did it entail?_ Him dying, for the most part.

He couldn't be bothered to dump his internal terrors onto anyone either, especially his younger brother. Pushing the panic down more and bottling it up inside, he began the first step in his calming process. 

There was an MTT late night rerun on again, he remembered catching this episode before....well, before. He must've had another bad night. It was kinda silly to recall this same exact spot, especially when he had this gut feeling that another timeline had gone horribly wrong.  
He reached for the ketchup bottle and chewed on the tip of it, taking in a deep breath as he tried to recall the events of his dream. 

The was just this ominous feeling of death that settled around him, but the more he tried to remember, the faster the dream slipped away. 

He sighed, then reached for his glass of water, chugging it in one go and setting it back down. He had to calm down and relax. He flopped onto his side, glancing up to the tv as the audience cheered for the Underworld idol. 

_Good ol' Mettaton, really knew...how to....put a guy to sle...'_

~^~

**Author's Note:**

> My first time posting on here, and it's just a drabble for now, unless I figure out how to end this sad story(or if ppl really like torturing sans like I do). |D
> 
> And yeah, if this story gets more chapters, it will start to get hardcore angst with some death mentioning thrown in. I will have to edit the tags to include darker things involved. 
> 
> Leave a comment if you liked it! I am also open to ideas as well. :]


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